


Bring Him Home

by doorwaytoparadise



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Gen, Old Age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 09:13:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doorwaytoparadise/pseuds/doorwaytoparadise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Martin dies of old age, Douglas is the one to come guide him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring Him Home

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Cabin Crew Riot 2. Prompt: Stages of Life- Elder Years

When the changing of the seasons began to blur together, and the passing of time became nothing more than a background event, Martin knew he was done. He let the days become a countdown, quietly waiting in his room, seeking that final release. Time had left it’s mark on him, thinning his hair, and wrinkling his face. His joints were stiffer, his sight was dimmer, and his hearing had dulled. His mind, however, still filled with thoughts of flight, often drifting into memories of brighter days, among clouds and birds, and so very free. His gaze drifted out the window, tracking a distant plane dragging trails behind it.

Soon, there was a day where his breaths became labored, his eyes watered, and the room around him blurred. He swallowed thickly. Closing his eyes, he tipped back his head, basking in the last light from the sun, streaming in the window. He was ready.

A sudden warmth enveloped the air beside him, and haltingly his eyes slid open. A familiar set of dark eyes met his, crinkled with humor and a hint of smugness. He blinked rapidly to clear the tears from his eyes, desperately wanting to drink in the sight before him.

Douglas’ appearance was the exact same from so many years back, and for a moment, Martin was back in the flight deck of GERTI, glancing sideways at his first officer.

The moment faded, leaving Martin to stare at the typical look of vague amusement present upon the other man’s face. Here, though, the man was practically glowing, a youth and vigor he had not had in life for a long time. The Douglas before him was in his prime, dark hair, smooth skin, and oozing confidence, and Martin found his own energy rising to meet him.

Knowing each other as they did, there were no words spoken, no words needed. Only an outstretched hand, a quirk of an eyebrow, an invitation. Martin reached his own hand out, grip tightening with a strength he hadn’t had since moving boxes in his van. Steadily, Douglas pulled him to his feet, easing him out of the chair, and letting the harsh signs of age strip away. By the time Martin was once again on his feet, he was just as Douglas liked to remember. Young, fit, and just proud enough to suit his uniform, which he now wore. Ginger curls bright and full, with lightly tanned skin, and faint muscles, Martin had returned to his own prime. Douglas clapped a hand on his shoulder, still grasping Martin’s hand, and grinned.

“Come on, captain. We have a flight to catch.”

Martin’s smile was blinding, and he fell into step beside Douglas, neither looking back at the frail, tired body he had left behind, still sitting in the chair.


End file.
